


keep it or yeet it

by possumdnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Moving, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possumdnp/pseuds/possumdnp
Summary: Phil’s armed with sticky notes, ready to keep or yeet everything in their room before the big move.Dan just wants a break.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 91





	keep it or yeet it

“What the fuck did you just put on my back?” Dan mumbles. He’s lying on their bed, face smushed into a pillow so he can’t see anything, can’t see the horrible mess of boxes and packing materials that has invaded their room.

All he knows is that Phil has just pressed something in between his shoulder blades — something that seems to be very amusing, given that Phil is making little wheezing noises that mean he’s barely restraining his laughter.

“I didn’t put anything on you, Dan. Why would you think that?”

Dan reaches back blindly and tries to find it. His hands meet paper, and he tears it off to look at it. “A pink sticky note?”

“Maybe.” Phil’s tongue pokes from between his teeth.

“Does pink mean Keep or Yeet? I can’t even remember anymore.”

“Pink means Yeet.” Phil pokes at Dan’s side. “That’s ‘cause I’m officially yeeting you out of bed, buddy. It’s only ten in the morning and you’re already taking a break. You’re slacking off on me.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I have an excuse.” Dan rolls over and crumples up the sticky note. “We’ve been packing for a whole week straight, and it’s _still_ not done. Our life is boxes, Phil. I’m at the point where I think we should just yeet it _all_ and just start completely fresh in the new place.”

Phil sits down beside him, the bed sinking under his weight. “I mean, we _are_ starting fresh in a lot of ways. Like with all of that matching furniture that we actually chose ourselves.”

Dan moans. “Fuck. It’s gonna look so good, isn’t it?”

Phil nods. “It is. So really, we just have to go through all of the random crap we’ve acquired so it doesn’t clutter up the brand new place. It should be easy.”

“Ugh,” Dan says, pulling a blanket over his eyes, once again blocking out the sight of their messy room. The blanket smells kinda funky because they haven’t washed their bedding for god knows how long. Dan feels a little bit disgusted by it, but they’ve been too busy to care. The sheets will be washed when they get to the new place. “Having random crap is stupid. I still maintain that we should just live a life of no possessions. It would be freeing.”

Phil raises an eyebrow. “I know for a fact you wouldn’t actually want that.”

“Mmmmmm. I don’t believe you. Prove it.”

Phil stands up from the bed, and Dan reluctantly sits up, pulling the blanket down from his eyes, watching as Phil heads over to the opposite side of their room. There’s a few boxes sitting there, but they haven’t started packing much up yet in their bedroom. It’s the one last solace from the chaos of the rest of their flat.

Phil picks up the well-worn plush of Dan’s childhood teddy bear and holds it up. “Well, first of all, there’s no way you’re yeeting Teddy.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “I mean. _Obviously_ I’m not getting rid of Teddy. I’ve had him since I was born. My nana gave him to me.”

Phil smiles and sets the bear gently into a moving box, before picking something else up from the corner. “And how about the tonberry? You gonna yeet this poor little guy?”

Dan glares over at him. “You’re not playing fair. You’ve literally just chosen the two most sentimental items in this room that you _know_ I’m keeping until the day I die.”

Phil looks down affectionately at the tonberry. “This little guy’s moved around a lot, hasn’t he?”

Dan smiles. “Yeah, he has.” It wasn’t the first gift Phil had given him, but it felt like the most important one at the time.

It had been that first Christmas, just a month after they’d met in person for the first time. Dan had been having a crappy day, stuck at home with his family and desperately missing Phil.

And then a box had been dropped off at the front door, postmarked from the Rawtenstall post office.

He’d actually cried when he opened it up to see the tiny, perfectly-rendered plush tonberry inside, along with a three-page long handwritten letter from Phil, telling him how much he’d loved the week they’d just spent together, and how much he missed Dan already. It was the most personal, thoughtful gift Dan had ever received, and he knew then that he wanted to be together with Phil for as long as possible.

The tonberry has been in a place of pride in Dan’s room ever since, making four moves around the country. (He still has that handwritten note too, tucked away into one of his old journals.)

Dan blinks away the memories and looks up at Phil. “Okay. New rule. Sentimental plushies are exempt from the Keep Or Yeet task. You’ve gotta find me something in this room that _doesn’t_ have deep, years-long sentimental value that I obviously want to keep.”

“Easy,” Phil says, setting the tonberry in the box and heading over to their wardrobe. “These ungodly expensive, stripy jumpers. You’re really gonna donate all of them to the charity shop?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Of course not. I wear all of those jumpers. They’re not junk.”

Phil grins and sticks a yellow sticky note on the door of the wardrobe, before moving over to their dresser. “Well then, how about these poor plants?” He pats one of the pots. “I’m sorry, Trevor. Danny wants to live the minimalist life now. No room for houseplants or joy in the new house. I don’t think he loves you anymore.”

Dan snorts out a laugh. “Our houseplants are basically family members to us. Of course they’re coming along.”

Phil slaps a yellow sticky note on Trevor’s pot. He looks around the room, considering, and then smirks — the face of a man who’s just come up with a joke he thinks is _so clever._ He strides over to the bedside table and pats it. “Our sex toy collection, then. Some of those took a lot of research and trial and error to find. You _really_ want to just yeet all of that work?”

Dan glares at him. “The sex toys are also exempt from Keep Or Yeet. Because, yes, of course we’re keeping them.”

Phil sticks a yellow note on the top of the bedside table, looking entirely too smug. “You’re not really helping me in this game of Keep Or Yeet, mister minimalist. The point is to get rid of things, remember? Live a life free of possessions?”

Dan groans and closes his eyes. “Okay, _fine._ You’ve made your point. I don’t really want to get rid of _everything_ we have. Just a lot of things. Things that don’t happen to be in this room.”

Phil smiles. “Face it, Dan. Deep down, you’re just as sentimental as I am. You like being surrounded by nice, familiar things that have good memories associated with them.”

Dan tries to look annoyed, but he can’t help but break character and smile back. Phil is just so fucking endearing and stupid. “Yeah. Reckon I am.” He sits up from the bed, stretching his tired, aching limbs. _“Fine._ I’ll get my lazy ass up and help you with this room. You reckon we can get it done by the end of the day?”

“Not a chance in hell, not with how slowly we pack. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try.” Phil grins and pulls one more yellow sticky note from the pad. He presses it gently to Dan’s forehead, rubbing to make sure it sticks. “And for the record, I’ve changed my mind about that pink sticky note from earlier. I think I’d like to keep you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I can’t write anything that’s not sentimental and sweet. 
> 
> [Reblog here!](https://possumdnp.tumblr.com/post/642570556120727552/keep-it-or-yeet-it-t-13k-phils-armed-with)


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